Port-Vale Harbour on the River Bronn.
Sticky had been having a terrible week. Ever since he was caught nabbing a couple of spuds from old Joe, things had gotten tricky.
Case and point, as he walked past one of his favourite vendor’s stalls, they glared at him like he had killed their father. Even though he was their most frequent customer, they all seemed to hate him. Sure, he never actually paid for anything he ‘bought’ but who could afford the prices these maniacs asked for?
Not only that, he had become a pariah of sorts around town, women and children crossing the street when they saw him and men guarding their pouches like their life depended on it.
Despite his God-given abilities, he was left destitute, unable to use the blessings that had come after the great storm.
Most people hadn’t gotten a blessing, but he had. Sticky was special in that way, he could sense the magical energy that others couldn’t and he knew how to control it.
It came naturally to him, instincts guiding the magical energy in a certain pattern throughout his body, sort of like how animals have inherited memories and know how to survive in the wild from birth.
The only problem was that his magic was aligned well with his crooked nature, he liked to steal, and his powers helped with that.
Ever since he could remember, he had been running through the dirty streets of Port-Vale, slashing the bottom of purses and picking the pockets of careless sailors.
It was a blessing to live in this place as a thief because of the rich idiots from Samari that passed through Port-Vale on their way upstream to the capital, they made perfect targets. Sure, if you got caught, you’d lose a finger or two. But Sticky never got caught… until Old Joe and his blasted danger sense warned him anyways.
‘None of those rich idiots anymore though…’ Sticky thought glumly. The storm had come from the west where the capital lay and not one ship had passed through Port-Vale since then. Every ship that had been docked in the harbour was ripped to shreds by the freakish winds, so none had set sail from here either.
‘I need a new idiot, someone who doesn’t know me. As long as they aren’t wary of me I can take them for all they are worth. Then maybe I can buy some monster flesh, oh just imagine how much more I could steal if my feather touch improves,’ Sticky thought excitedly, drifting off into a land of imagination.
He was crouching in an alley by the town’s entrance, hoping for a weary traveller to drift in, although not many did these days. As he crouched, his hands never stopped moving, constantly fiddling with a gaudy assortment of rings lining his slender fingers.
The reason Sticky had been such a good thief is that he didn’t look like one. His face was simple and round, while his eyes were wide and innocent. He looked more like he would bake you some bread than steal your life’s savings.
But his hands didn’t lie and in them, he couldn’t hide his true nature. There were slender and bony, every finger covered in at least one ring sometimes more. He liked to think of the rings as a handicap, the threat of them making noise made stealing more difficult and more exciting.
As he watched the entrance to the town, bored out of his mind, he noticed a tall figure walking towards the gate. Well… it wasn’t much of a gate anymore; the actual doors had been blown off it. But the two massive stone pillars on either side still stood, a testament to how massive and unyielding they were.
The figure grew closer, and Sticky’s excitement grew with them. He didn’t recognize them! Which meant that the heavens had delivered him a new target.
Only, the closer the figure got, the less excited Sticky became. ‘They look crazy!’ Sticky realised, starting to change his mind on whether or not this was a good idea.
There were a few people that lounged around the town gate during the day, they called themselves guards but Sticky preferred sculptures since they never actually moved or did anything at all.
The so-called guards began whispering intently as the figure grew closer, discussing whether or not they should try and charge the person for entry. Oh, I suppose aside from sitting around they did extort people but not Sticky, he knew of plenty of other ways to get into the town.
The figure wore rags drenched in blood and some strange black substance, he had strange fur pouches on his feet that might have been white 50 miles ago. On his back was a beautiful orange fur cloak that didn’t fit with the rest of his ragged aesthetic.
Even stranger, a small fox was following behind him, wearing a cloak of its own made from dark black fur. It all looked very strange as far as Sticky was concerned and he wasn’t sure he wanted to get involved with this guy.
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
Sure, the big black fur bag on his back was tempting. There would definitely be some goodies in there. But then, there was also the leathery belt with a big knife on it and the massive spear on his back.
It was a tough decision to be sure and Sticky needed to act quick if he wanted to make the most of this opportunity before the ‘guards’ swooped in and took it.
Steeling himself, he slunk out from the alley he was hiding in and made his way quietly between the houses towards the approaching figure.
-
Will sighed with relief when he finally saw the two stone pillars that had once held Port Vale’s gates. He had never been so glad for a journey to end before.
After walking all day for the better part of 4 days he had arrived at Port-Vale and not only was part of it still standing even after the first impact but there were even people milling around the gate.
It had been so long since he talked to a human, he could barely remember how it actually went. He had passed the time on the journey by talking to Muintir and practising with his spear but it was still very boring nonetheless.
The only thing of note happing was the little fox’s massive growth spurt the day after eating the bear meat. Having grown too big to sit on his shoulder, it was reluctantly forced to walk behind him, much to its dissatisfaction.
He had also made it its own cloak after it kept eyeing his cloak longingly and nipping him in the ankle. Honestly, he thought it was hilarious seeing the little thing strut about In a fir cloak and had plenty of furs to spare after killing the bear.
In the end, he decided not to make a set of clothes out of the bear's hide, partly because he had no confidence in making clothes that wouldn’t look terrible and partly because he had no need for them. Having noticed that during the day, he never really felt cold. As long as the sun was shining, he was fine, never overheating despite how hot it got around midday.
Figuring this was another factor of his new body, he resolved himself to find out more about snakes and their characteristics. He needed to know in detail just what exactly his abilities were and how they worked so that he could take full advantage of them of course.
As the city grew closer, a stocky man with a round face emerged from a hole in the wall and jogged towards him, a smile plastered on his face. For some reason, Will felt like this guy was inherently trustworthy.
Perhaps it was the big doe eyes that looked as though they could never tell a lie. Although he did note that it was strange that the man didn’t just exit the city through the gate and instead a hole in the collapsed wall beside the gate.
The man walked over, smiling and holding out his hand like he wanted Will to shake it. Will looked down at the outstretched hand awkwardly and shook it, noticing that the man’s hand was surprisingly soft and ladylike.
“Nice hands,” Will muttered absentmindedly, having the strange compulsion to speak his mind.
“Huh?” The stocky man froze, his hand still in Will’s. “Did you just say I had nice hands?” He asked bluntly.
Will wanted to lie and say it was a mistake, but he couldn’t, the man really did have nice hands, “Yeah, they are very soft,” He said dully, both frustrated and embarrassed that he couldn't lie and say it was an accident.
“Okayy… Well, thanks, I guess. I’ve never gotten that one before,” The man said awkwardly “I’m John by the way,”
“Yeah, sorry about that, my name’s Will,” Will said, suddenly growing increasingly anxious about what the man might ask him. He needed to find a way to circumvent his inability to lie and quick.
“No worries, man, It’s understandable, you’ve been on the road for a long time and probably haven’t seen another person in so long. Everyone’s bound to be a little weird their first time seeing someone in two months.” The man said, his face the perfect picture of understanding.
Of course, Will didn’t know that John otherwise known as Sticky was currently screaming internally in regret, ‘Why did I approach this weirdo and why won’t he let go of my hand?’ He cried, not letting any of this show on his face of course. He was a professional.
“Two months?” Will echoed, dumbstruck by the revelation.
“Yeah, that big storm hit two months yesterday I think, it’s kind of hard to keep track of time nowadays so forgive me if it’s not quite right,” Sticky said apologetically, and it looked like he really meant it.
“Two months…” Will repeated dully. He had known he was in the egg for a long time but two whole months of his life had disappeared just like that, it was a hard pill to swallow.
Sticky started to look uneasy when he saw Will’s vacant stare, his messy blue-black hair that stuck up in all sorts of crazy angles and his forearms covered in scars were starting to look more and more unnerving.
Snapping out of it, Will apologised and began to ask questions, “Sorry about that, I had no idea it had been that long since the first impact, are there many people still living here,”
This time it was Sticky who froze, and when he finally spoke, he looked nervous, “About half the town survived the storm since it passed by pretty quick. We just jumped into the river or hid in the cellars of houses… Anyway, did you just say First Impact? Like… first of many?” Sticky asked anxiously.
“Yeah, I guess so. From what I understand there will probably be more like it and they will be worse,” Will answered, somewhat frustrated that he had let such an important piece of information slip and not liking where the direction of this conversation might lead.
First, the man would ask how he knew this, then after he explained a big snake had told him, he would either be judged as crazy or worse, if the man believed him, he would end up explaining everything that happened.
The fewer people knew about his relation to Latet the better as far as Will was concerned.
Seeing that the man was building up to ask a follow-up question, Will cut him off before he could get there. “We can talk more inside the town, why don’t we go inside?”
He had wanted to say, ‘I’d love to talk more,’ feeling like that sounded much more friendly, but the truth was, he couldn’t wait for this guy to fuck off before Will let anything dangerous slip. Meaning he was forced to change what he said until it was what he really felt.
The man nodded eagerly before speaking again, “That sounds great, I’ll show you the way. And… While I understand you might be nervous, you don’t need to hold my hand,” he said, sounding particularly serious about that last part.
Will froze, realising he hadn’t let go of the man’s hand this whole time and immediately let go, face glowing red from embarrassment.
“Sorry,” He muttered as Sticky led him across to the opening in the wall he had come from.
Perhaps due to his embarrassment, he didn’t notice the strange looks the people at the gate gave him. Or that his bag had grown lighter. He noticed none of these things because Sticky was just that good.